Jack was having fun. He hadn't realised quite how much he had missed being at the wheel….
The crew were now complaining that they hadn't had any rest in weeks. Which was true, so Jack had decided that they would make port in Tortuga for a while so that they could get their strength back up.
Suddenly, as he was turning the boat left, excruciating pain shot through his left leg! He noticed a growing red stain appear on his trousers... his leg promptly collapsed underneath him, and he let go of the wheel and fell to the ground with a very loud crash. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" he yelled. He managed to get back up again, and he stood on one leg while trying to get his sword out, to attack whatever had hurt him. But then he looked around, and saw no one nor nothing to fight! He looked under the boat in the water: nothing. He looked around for somebody that could have thrown something: no one. And there wasn't even any knife anywhere! But by now his leg was bleeding constantly, and on closer inspection he had a 3-inch deep cut. By now his yell had attracted the attention of other crew members, and they came rushing over to find out what had happened. All they saw was their Captain jumping up and down on one leg, with a pool of blood on the deck.
"Capt'n! What happened!"
"What's attacking us?"
"Should we start the cannons?"
"Is it another sea monster, like the Kracken?"
"Why is there blood on the deck?"
"What happened to yer leg?"
And many more questions like that.
"I don't know what's attacking us, no don't start the cannons, no I don't think it's a sea monster, that's my blood on the deck, and I have no bloody idea what happened to me' bloody leg. Satisfied?" answered Jack, frustrated at the torrent of questions.
Gibbs noticed the strained edge to Jack's voice and realised that he was in great pain, even though he would never admit it.
"I think ye should go and rest a bit, Cap'n."
"No, I'm fine."
"Well ye can't exactly do anything?"
"I can. It's fine. I can stand on it."
But as soon as he put any of his weight on it, his leg collapsed from underneath him and he fell to the ground, letting out a faint yell as he went.
"Somehow, I don't think ye can."
So Jack, muttering under his breath, pulled himself to his feet and hobbled to his cabin. He put his head in his hands and sighed. What could it have been out there? One thing that even he couldn't combat was invisible knives.
Gibbs watched Jack go into his cabin and wondered. What could possibly have happened? Jack hadn't told them that….. hmmm, oh well. On to Tortuga.
Meanwhile, Angelica was going mad. She had completely run out of rum, and the fish were getting less and less, and still no ship darkened the horizon. She had decided that she would wait until she couldn't live any longer, and if the boat STILL hadn't come she would try again. And now, the time had come. End. Of. Story. His last chance. If he didn't twig after that, then he would die along with her. She would shoot the voodoo doll along with herself.
Jack's leg was healing fast. He was a strong man, and he prided himself in being very hard to kill. Even so, it wasn't pleasant. So he stayed in his cabin for a few days, under the advice of Gibbs. And it also gave him some opportunity to study the bottle a bit more. But, still to no avail. Nothing worked.
At that point Gibbs entered the cabin. "Cap'n! We've arrived a' Tortuga!"
"Very good. Well, I'll be out in a few minutes."
An expression of doubt passed over Gibbs face. "Are ye sure that'd be wise?"
"I'm perfectly fine now. And if I want to go, then I go. And that's it."
"Alright, if ye say so Cap'n."
And with that Gibbs left the cabin, and Jack sat down on his bed and very, very slowly pulled his boot on. Even so, he winced in pain as the worn leather touched his injured leg. Then he shrugged his coat on and pulled his hat over his dark brown dreadlocks, and walked out of the cabin. It still hurt to walk, but he could disguise the fact very well by now.
They walked into the infamous pirate port, and went into the nearest tavern. The rest of the crew were very pleased to see their Captain back "up and running" as they called it, and Jack managed to convince them that he was completely sound again. Of course, Gibbs knew better, but he didn't say anything. Jack was very pleased to be back in the familiar town, and he went straight over to Giselle and Scarlett, who seemed strangely pleased to see him, considering the last time.
"Why hello Jack, we haven't seen you in a long time." He sat down next to them. "Neither have I, and you'll be pleased to know I got me ship back. The poor devil that took it suffered immensely. And you both look very pretty tonight, you know." "Why thank you." Giselle whispered sweetly.
And so the night progressed, Jack subjecting Giselle and Scarlett to his undying charm, and all the time drinking more and more rum. It all went smoothly, until...
Suddenly, and without any warning, as he was about to take a gulp of rum... Jack couldn't breath. He simply couldn't breath! It was as though an invisible hand was strangling him, very slowly and deliberately… he clutched a trembling hand to his throat and made very strange strangling noises, while Giselle and Scarlett drew back apprehensively.
"Jack, are you alright? What's happening? Here, drink something!"
And they shoved a tankard of rum towards him, shakily.
"Can't…. breath… invisible…. Again…. Shouldn't…. ahhhhrgggggggg…"
And with that he fell to the ground, completely, and utterly, unconscious...